0322-2021

Published on Mondays, with columns by Artists and Writers
Published since 2002, an Ocean and Pounds publication

 

Greenwood
by Kai Chan


Solitude 2021 24 x28 cm, fabric, thread, pastic net on paper

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OCEANPOUNDS online exhibition
Cadmium Red to Cyan Permanent
Small work by Kai Chan
(March 14 to 28, 2021)
https://oceanpounds.com


Caffeine Reveries
by Shelley Savor


To and Fro

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Poem a Week
by Gary Michael Dault


Socialism


I walked
the length
of a stretch limo

got so tired
I had to go sit
on the beach


 

NNHD DISLOCATION
by Blues Wong


('Cresent Void' by Sharon Lee)

 

The Second Life of Objects

 
A pouring rain of mental soil
fill the passing memories of a distant love;
 
white silhouettes decline the dancing dark
 but pave a flight to His sublime light.


 
(On Sharon Lee's 'Cresent Void', 2019)
https://www.sharonleecw.com/thecrescentvoid2019

 

NNHD DISLOCATION is a column by the five committee members of 女那禾多 NuNaHeDuo DISLOCATION, a publication founded in Hong Kong in 1992. Blues Wong, Holly Lee, Lau Ching-ping, Lee Ka-sing and Patrick Lee.

 

 

DOUBLE DOUBLE issue 0319-2021

View Current Issue
https://oceanpounds.com/blogs/doubledouble/0312-2021

CONTENTS: (NuNaHeDuo DISLOCATION, 1 of 3) A Life in Publication. Written by Holly Lee

 

 

From the Notebooks (2010-2021)
by Gary Michael Dault

From the Notebooks, 2010-2021.
Number 77:
Brother Life (March 18, 2021)



 

 

 

CHEEZ
by Fiona Smyth

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Aotearoa
by Madeleine Slavick 思樂維


Scene I
This is one of the few factories in the town nearest to my New Zealand home. It’s a printing factory, and this is the communal room, as seen through the front window. The factory is located along the ‘bypass’ at the edge of town – the road runs roughly parallel to a mountain range.



Travelling Palm Snapshots
by Tamara Chatterjee

Morocco (September, 2014) – In the Atlas Mountains the driver stopped at the side of road, pointing to a very rickety suspension bridge. While he persuaded me to follow him, my companions decided against the crusade. With trepidation; namely due to my size and "the look" of the bridge, slowly and hesitantly we crossed. On the other side we proceeded up a rocky outcrop into a hidden structure situated between cliff walls and trees. Working away over a fire pit - hammering metal into useful tools, was the loveliest blacksmith. As I left to rejoin my companions, he handed me a couple handfuls of fresh picked figs from the tree outside his studio. I'm reminded of the kindness of strangers in the most unusual places.

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Some Trees
by Malgorzata Wolak Dault



Number 66

The sweetness of the freshness of the breeze!
The wind is wiggling the trees.

                              ----Frederick Seidel, "Before Air-
Conditioning" in Nice Weather (New York: Farrar,
Straus and Giroux, 2012), p. 8.


The Photograph
coordinated by Kamelia Pezeshki


Winter Onion by Mike Heagin


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ProTesT
by Cem Turgay

 


 

Leaving Taichung Station
by Bob Black



These Birds Walk


“Dear god—I miss falling asleep with my brothers and sisters. It was so much fun……what do you want me to do.”—Omar, boy in Pakistan, from “These Birds Walk”


It began when I braved the light
And stumbled toward the protective lattice webbing the door
And I slipped like a kite string in the sky
Through the iris of metal and grating—
Open rigged there long ago by our protectors
Tarnished by time and sweltering, high-mountain heat
And I found the field past the house walls and then beyond that
The sea.
And once through, I ran
And I leapt homeward so fast I’d not known my legs could map such a distance
So fleet and so far and so young, as if flight
Until I reached toward an outer-bridge and the waves,
The waves scattering themselves upon the glass buoys and the fisherman’s oats and The circling of my once unanswered prayers
Until I tasted the wind and chalk-line fingertip of something reaching and
There it was:
Space written on the world as if my own.
And I was free.

And later in the night, I swallowed in gulps oxygen and dream and mama’s voice
And my heart unbuckled
And I knew then, it must be,
It was, ineluctably,
You.
We were in flight and we were going and we were free, all because of
The waves and the slight and singular
You.


For: Omar Mullick and his sons.





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STAY WITH ART. INDEXG B&B


(Breakfast area and small shop)

Located on the second floor of an art space, INDEXG Bed and Breakfast has 4 guest rooms, all with ensuite bathroom. Since 2008, INDEXG B&B have served curators, artists, art-admirers, collectors and professionals from different cities visiting and working in Toronto.

INDEXG B&B
50 Gladstone Ave, Toronto
416.535.6957
indexgbb.com



MONDAY ARTPOST
ISSN 1918-6991
Published on Mondays, with columns by Artists and Writers
Published since 2002, an Ocean and Pounds publication

mail@oceanpounds.com
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